


Perfect on paper

by VallasRevas



Category: Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer
Genre: F/M, One-Sided Relationship, Trouble's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:20:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25359106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VallasRevas/pseuds/VallasRevas
Summary: They sat face-to-face in the dimly lit dining room. From afar they looked no different than any other patrons- a couple out on the town for a romantic evening. It’s exactly what he’d been hoping for: isn’t it? On paper everything is perfect: they’re both dressed to the nines, enjoying Heaven’s finest food and laughing as she tells him about Mulch’s latest case. The conversation is easy- natural.Yet, something feels… off.The story of Trouble and Holly's third date.
Relationships: Artemis Fowl II/Holly Short, Trouble Kelp/Holly Short (one-sided)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 57





	Perfect on paper

They sat face-to-face in the dimly lit dining room. From afar they looked no different than any other patrons- a couple out on the town for a romantic evening. It’s exactly what he’d been hoping for _: isn’t it?_ On paper everything is perfect: they’re both dressed to the nines, enjoying Heaven’s finest food and laughing as she tells him about Mulch’s latest case. The conversation is easy- natural.

Yet, something feels… off.

He hadn’t really noticed it at first. Of course, she’d mentioned _him_ , but it hadn’t seemed unusual or strange. After all, the human had played a central role some of the biggest affairs of Holly’s career and they’d become _friendly_ over the years; why _shouldn’t_ his name come up? Of course, he noticed the wave of annoyance that crashed over him anytime his name was mentioned, but he’d rationalized it away- a simple manifestation of his personal dislike of the Mud Boy, _surely_.

“-so Mulch contacted Arty for an assist and-”

Trouble feels his throat tightening unpleasantly. There it is again. The pet-name slips pass her lips all too easily and, for a moment, he swears it lingers behind to hang mockingly over their heads in bold letters _._ It was the second time today and each time it feels like the table separating them extended a few centimetres, pushing him further away from her. 

Her laugh fills the space between them as she gets to an amusing bit in her story. He swallows the bite he’d just taken and forces himself to do the same.

It’s an unnatural laughter that seems to scrape against his throat, but it sounds convincing enough.

He should have noticed earlier. _How could I have missed it?_ After all, the signs had been there, hiding in plain sight. He should’ve picked up on the way his name seemed to worm itself into most conversation, the small smiled that plays at her lips or how her voice softens whenever she uses his pet-name. Trouble forces himself to meet her gaze and, as usual, he’s struck by the intense blue eye. He misses the hazel one that used to be in its place more each time. He misses not feeling like Fowl’s watching him from a far, taunting him, everytime he looks into her eyes. He can practically hear the Mud Boy smug voice whispering in his ear: _‘First Fowl Manor and now this; it seems you just can’t win against me, Commander. Then again, that’s true for most people.’_

He swallows his anger and downs the rest of his drink, now regretting he hadn’t opted for something stronger. They’ve danced around the troll in the room long enough, haven’t they? He’s tempted to ask her why would she even agree to this charade when she kne-. The thought freezes in his head before it’s finished, as the truth hits him like a neutrino blast.

‘ _It’s not me you were trying to fool, isn’t it?’_ he thinks sadly. ‘ _You haven’t realised it yet._ ’

The thought is a sobering one and he finds his anger replaced by the last emption he expected: pity. He feels _pity_ for her. Not just her, but _him_ as well. He- Commander Trouble Kelp of the LEP and veteran of the Fowl Manor’s siege, feels pity for the Mud Whelp. ‘ _In what universe did that happen?’_ he wonders _._

The dull hum of a vibrating communicator rises among the sound of quiet conversations and the tint of cutlery against china. The affect is immediate on Holly; she stops talking midsentence and her hand goes to her pocket to pull out a receptor. The gesture is fluid and without hesitation. She seems almost unaware of it until the communicator is in her hand and she’s staring at it.

“Speaking of the devil…” she says and pauses. She bites her lower lip, suddenly hesitant. From across the table he sees her fingers dance over the screen. They stop over the _dismiss_ button then _answer_ one. She doesn’t press either. ‘ _You want to answer.’_ Trouble sighs at the thought.

“You should pick up,” he says as a tired smile stretches over his lips. Her eyes dart up to meet his and fall back on the communicator in her hand.

“It’s… okay,” Holly says- more for her benefit than his own he guesses. “I’ll call him later.”

“No, really.” He doesn’t know why he’s insisting. The path she’s on is a dangerous one. He’s a human. A thief. It’s wrong on so many levels. He shouldn’t be encouraging her. If she wants to stay in denial, why stand in her way? “At the very least, make sure he’s not about to be murdered by a manic pixie or something.”

Holly laughs and suddenly the playfulness in his voice feels less forced: it’s good to know he can still make her laugh.

“All right,” she says. “I’ll only be a second.” He watches her smile grow wider as she presses the communicator against her ear. “So, who in Frond’s name is trying to kill you this time, Mud boy?” _Frond_ , even the slur sounds affectionate coming from her. “I’m terribly sorry, but sadly annoying siblings are just outside of my jurisdiction…” There’s a pause and the indistinct murmur coming the communicator, too low for Trouble to make out the words. “I can’t right now,” she replies “… Just out with some _friends._ Can I call you a bit later?”

Trouble can feel his body tensing and prays she doesn’t notice. _Just out with some friends._ The last thread of hope in his grasp dissolves. He’s hit by a wave of sadness, but, in some small way, it’s also a relief. _Nothing worse than false hope._

Holly hangs up and smile apologetically. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “What did the Mud Boy want?”

“I don’t know, something about a new venture that might require our assistance.”

Her entire body is tensing almost as is she’s getting ready to call back

Trouble gives her a tired smile. “I’ll get the check. You should go call him back.”

“Are you… sure?”

Trouble nods. “I am,” he says decidedly. “It’s fine, really.” And much to his surprise he finds that he means it. Perfect on paper only meant so much, in the end.


End file.
